The elevator doors creak open. The staff turn to look.

A balloon floats out first. Then, a hand.

Then you — slinking out of the shadows with that grin.

Charlie steps back, surprised. Alastor tilts his head, grinning wider.

Vaggie: “What the HELL is that?”

Alastor: “Now this… this isn’t one of ours.”

They don’t know what you are. They don’t know why you’re here. But they will.